


The outlaw's rose

by pseudodias



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Romance, Western
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-29
Updated: 2015-01-29
Packaged: 2018-03-09 13:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3251912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudodias/pseuds/pseudodias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Marston was a smart willed kid, loved to read and dwell in the knowledge it held. Rosalie Harleen is the girl who spent her growing childhood around him until he was taken away by Edgar Ross. Three agonizing long years later and the pair are no longer kids, Jack an all around bad guy outlaw who went downhill after killing Ross, Rose, a poor woman living in armadillo find themselves intertwined together again in the worse way possible, Jack being part of a dangerous gang finds himself holding the woman he loves at knife point and then dragging her further into harms way. On this journey, said gang murders Roses' family with Jack apart of it. When she finds out, will she go on redemption against the man she love or help him hunt down the gang and keep him safe from Archer Fordam?</p><p>This story is a combination of RDR and Undead Nightmares later on in the story. The main song that fits this is Safe and Sound by Taylor swift and the Civil Wars.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

He snarled in pain as the salty warm water made contact with the bullet wound on his hip, a breathy moan escaped his dry bruised lips as Rose kept picking and cleaning the large magnum hole. "Dammit I said leave me be!" He hollered as the amber haired woman recoiled her hand. Why was Jack so harsh to her when all she did was try to help the dumb bastard?! 

"Fine let the wound become infected you dolt! I-I'm just trying to help keep you alive, S'all." She barked back and marched over to the other side of the room. Jack's brown coco eyes flashed with anger as he rolled off the bed to collide with the floor in mere seconds. He grumbled under his breath and approached his former childhood friend like a rabid fox.

"I ain't the man you think I am Rosie. I'm a killer...A bad cold hearted bastard! Ever since my pa was killed and my ma died so soon, I have changed." Jack said seething. Rose spun around and noticed she was trapped between the wash bucket and his tall muscular frame. She yelped in surprise as she saw the wild look in his eyes. He wasn't the young boy that wanted to be a writer and spent his days reading her stories and teaching her how to ride a horse, shoot a gun and skin some elk. The man was a monster....A killer. He was dangerous.

"John...You won't hurt me." She said using his real name instead of the name given to keep confusion between he and his father down. "I know you can change..Gettin' killed or killin' good folk is not the way you-"

"Shut up and listen to yourself Rosalie!" He shouted in her face as she cringed back fighting the tears in her eyes. Her head turned to the side as she allowed her breathing to become shallow. "How can you care about a man who took everything from you? Money. Horses. Your family." He confessed as her eyes widened. It was him who killed her parents and little sister!

"How could you do that to me?!" She screamed out breaking down into sobs that rattled her entire frame. "Oh god no please! Lord don't let me be hearing this from Marston!" Rosalie sank to her knees as her heart all but gave out on her. Jack limped away from her and for a second his eyes flashed with emotion. She would hate him..Stay away from him. If hurting her kept her safe, he might as well put a bullet in her head now...His eyes trailed over to the gun on the table and he grabbed it. Rose heard the infamous cocking and paused her sobs to glance up at him. Instead of the gun being aimed at her, he was handing it to her. Jack Marston was surrendering to the woman he loved deep down. His other hand reached down to jerk her to her feet and wedge the gun between her trembling fingers. "Pull the trigger darlin'." He said moving the gun above his heart and Rose tensed. Had he lost his mind? She could not kill him!

"N-No." She sniffled yet her finger tightened around the trigger. Jack inhaled and looked at her closely. Her beautiful green eyes glimmered with her soft pale skin he wanted to taste for so long. She met his for a moment and noticed he was giving up. He was tired.

"I'm ready to see my family Rose. I want to go home....I'm so tired." He whispered in her ear and listened to her cry all over again. As much as she hated him right now, she loved him more than hate. Weird but understanding. Now he was begging her to take his life away.

"John I don't wanna lose you, I can change you I swear! Give me a chance!" She pleaded and he sighed.

"Just pull the trigger. Please?" He asked with his famous shrug. Rose pressed her lips to his and he eagerly kissed back as a loud bang filled the room. Rose felt his lips relax and become lifeless as his hand slipped from hers. Eyes closed and Jack crumbled to the floor in a heap.

"And then Buck snarled in anger as the man whipped the club over his head. You shall learn mutt! The man said and struck the do-"

"Jack! Is he gonna beat that poor critter?!" Rose shrieked as she gripped the 16 year old's shirt sleeve. Jack had been resting against the tree with Rosalie curled happily in his lap listening to him read his book "Call of the Wild" for some hours. She admired his voice and how he always read to her when she had nothing else to do. Right now he only rolled his eyes and slipped an arm around her waist, plucking a few red curls from her cheek.

"C'mon Rosie. It's just a story now can I continue?" Jack chuckled and she timidly nodded her response. "Anyway he struck the dog in the he-"

"Will that dog die?!" Rose squeaked allowing Jack to shoot her a glare. It only lasted for a second until he laughed softly closing the book. The two were the best of friends, since they only had each other to talk to. Well, Rose always had other boys flirting after her but she had made up in her mind she was going to be the wife of John Marston Jr. And in Jack's mind, she was gonna be his wife and he was gonna love her like his pa loved ma. Leaning down he kissed her forehead and held her tighter watching the setting sun.

"Guess I should be heading home now huh?" She asked sadly and looked up at the handsome young man. Jack sighed and nodded to her. Both got to their feet as Rose began sadly trudging off. Just as she started, Jack caught her hand and smiled.

"Allow me, miss."

Rosalie blushed and slipped her arm in the crook of his as they both made their way down the dirt road. They were silent for a long time until Jack broke it. "What if your last name changed from Ms. Harleen to somethin' else?" He asked seriously, Rose glancing up at him. She didn't quite understand what he was hinting around to at first but it all made perfect sense after a while.

"Depends on if it changes to Mrs. Marston." She said and stopped long enough to wrap her arms around his waist. Jack cracked a smile and snaked his arms around her with a shrug. Perhaps that wasn't what he mean't. This was starting to cause her to flush from embarassment. "That is what you mean't wasn't it?" She asked sheepishly.

"Mmm, maybe." Jack teased and began walking with her again. It wasn't long until they reached the small farm south of Broken tree where Jack led her to the front porch and said his goodbyes. "Good night Rosie." Jack said as he placed a kiss on the back of her hand like a true gentleman. Rose blushed and hugged him tightly as if he would disappear into thin air.

"Goodnight Jack. I'll come by after school to see if the dog in that darn book dies." She joked and slipped away from him to go inside her cozy cottage.

"I look forward to it." The young boy purred and started his own way back home.

                                   ******

The next morning however shortly after John left to head into town, Jack was startled by his mother's high pitch shrill. Rifle was drawn as he quickly ran out the back room and towards his help needing mother. Several agents stood in the living room, one older man had his mother at gunpoint and carried a wicked smile when he spotted the young Marston. Jack shoved the loaded rifle in his direction as all did him the same way. Abigail felt her heart stop suddenly and fear for her baby began. No matter how old he was, she wasn't gonna let them kill her son! Dammit she had lost one child, and she wasn't going through another funeral.

"Now you best put that gun down kid, before we gun you down like a rabid dog." The older man said, his nose wrinkling from under his grey mustache. Once he spoke, Jack knew he hated the man. Hell, he already did just for having his mother but this was another kinda hatred. Still Jack kept his aim and could feel his muscles tense when the man called him "Kid".

"I ain't no kid Mister...But this man is fittin' to put a bullet in that fancy hat wearin' head of yours." Jack growled and the room grew tense. Jack wasn't lowering that rifle..His pa told him no matter what, stand your ground until you can stand no more. The older man gave a wry grin, shrugging his shoulders and cocking the pistol he had to his mothers head. Jack didn't twitch at this moment and sharpened his gaze on the man. Abigail closed her eyes and struggled against the cold chamber to her temple.

"D-Do as the man says Jack!" She found herself yelling but Jack kept the aim, his loud breathing filling the silence. Finally after a stare down, the man shoved his mother onto the couch and snapped his fingers in a commanding style. Before Jack could even flinch, the back of his head went numb with pain and stars filled his vision. The older man laughed a hearty one and his followers all joined in at how Jack didn't know where he was. The young boy shook his head to see exactly who to attack, then felt his feet leave the ground and his frame make contact with the floor.

"Alright, Alright. I think the boy has learned his lesson 'Gents." Said the old man and he kneeled down to Jack. "I'm Edgar Ross son. Do you know why me and my friend Archer over there are here?" He questioned, Jack trembling from rage and shock of being killed. Glassy eyes glowered into the others as Ross chuckled and yanked Jack up to his feet. "Maybe we should dispose of you. You're jus' like that no good Outlaw father of your-"

"Jack?" Came a soft timid voice and even through blurried vision, Jack saw the red flowing locks of Rose. Her expression was placid and fearful, the men all eyeballing her like fresh meat. Ross let Jack go and sauntered over to her.

"Well hello there little miss. Aren't you a pretty little thang!" He sneered coming closer to the 16 year old. Rose felt sick as his hot tobacco breath roamed over her face, making her wrinkle her nose in disgust. Jack was now blazing, shoving into Ross making him collide with the doorframe. He blocked Rose with his body like a protective German Shepherd eyes glinting with protectiveness.

"You stay the hell away from her! I mean it!" Jack snarled in a rage Rose had never seen. Jack was normally so calm, so nice and sweet tempered. Now he was swollen and acted like a dog with mange. She wrapped a hand around his arm amazed at the bulging muscle underneath his shirt. Never had she felt this before! Her cheeks flushed but it was a loud slap that made her snap back into reality. She smelled the blood, watched his busted lip ooze over.

"Now Jack..Before your pa comes back, I need you and your mother to head outside and climb in the wagon. We have something to take care of." Ross said and lit a smoke ignoring Jack's glares. Abigail was lifted from her seat and dragged out the house, looking over at her battered son and amber head female clinging to him.

"Jack are they going to kill you?" Rose questioned fighting back the tears in her eyes. Jack was silent, his eyes tightly closed. His body was stiff and sore..His pride ached with regret and torment. Finally he turned around and met her green eyes with a soft smile, her hand caressing his cheek softly. His smile did something to her on the inside, pulled her heart right from her chest to let it fall into the pit of her stomach. She loved him so much and he was being taken from her...Jack leaned into her touch and lowered his head in vain.

"I think they are Rose. But I promise I'll see you again. I'll be fine, maybe." He replied softly and to his astonishment, she kissed him on the cheek. It lingered there even as he was wrenched out of her grasp and shoved towards down the porch steps. He couldn't look back because he knew it would kill her if he did. He loved her and he swore on his life, she would be his again.


	2. Chapter one

      The sun came to crawl over the small town of Armadillo spreading a warm overcast on the dew misted grass that was on the outskirts. Not a peep stirred and sleep was still pleasant until the train whistle blew signaling travelers from Blackwater had just came in. The year was 1914 and the west was begining to change drastically. Crime rates went up, Outlaws no longer hid in Theives Landing but now roamed around spreading terror on the kind folk that lived here. With the rising crowds rowdy and ready to be served, The Armadillo Saloon was hurriedly sent into action. Bishop, the bartender clanged the bell to wake up his workers and whores were waiting to please eager men. Upstairs now fixing her hair into a long red braid, Rose Harleen smiled at her own reflection and the chatter from customers that she would serve breakfast to.

"Miz Harleen! Yous about ready up there?!"  Bishop called out from the steps hoping she wasn't still sleeping in like the day before. The door finally opened as Rose gave a small smile at her boss and waved her hand to shoo him off. The old man chuckled as Rose was always a sight to behold on virgin eyes. Slender as a snake, curves like the finest mare and perfect round breast tightly pushed up in the tan shirt she wore. Sometimes Bishop wondered how she wasn't a married woman! His daydreams were cut as someone dinged the bell to get  their attention.

"Now now I got that man, Bish." Rose said patting him on the shoulder when he turned to head over. The 19 year old girl was happy to start the day off by helping others since she had been caught up trying to pay off doctors bills. Thomas, the piano player began a soft calm melody as loud voices, laughs and growls filled the Saloon already. But this didn't actually bother Rose much, made her know she kept people happy. Sliding behind the bar, Rose greeted the man with a friendly smile. The same was not returned to her however as the agent's eyes were dull and tired, pained almost. His hair stuck out from under his hat in nappy curls and calloused hands gripped a paper into near crumbling.

"Some fucking Outlaw killed Ross." He spat at the green eyed girl and a confused expression crawled upon her face, the man continuing with a quick scowl and rolling of his eyes. "Edgar Ross...My Partner...Boss. He was shot multiple times at Lake Don Julio." He said leaning over the counter. His expression was now hopeful and Rose didn't understand why.

"And you're here because?" She questioned after a while trying to figure out why he came in the bar to ask her about a man she didn't know. The man's eyes gleamed in anger as his body went taunt and he pointed all around in the bar.

"Because this place is filled with gunslinging outlaw pieces of shit, that's why!" He exclaimed earning dirty looks from a group of gunslingers at a nearby table. An eerie silence filled the room and Rose felt like she had to get a grip on things before bullets were sent sprawled everywhere. Whoever this man was clearly didn't understand the danger he was putting himself into right now.

"Well," Rose softly began drawing his attention from the riled men and back to her. "I don't think that Outlaw would be anyone we would know or step foot into this here Saloon. I know these men and they are all good folk, no problems. Jus' calm down and see were the day takes you." She said in the sweetest tone she could. Something was mumbled by the man before he pushed himself off the bar. It was something about him that Rose thought she knew...

"Well, if anyone comes in strange...Tell them Archer Fordham was here." Was the only thing he said before striding out the door. The bar was utterly silent until a person called out loud, "You think it was zat Savage Gang? Heard they cause some trouble all through blackwater. Hell, even Manzanita Post was robbed by them!" Rose frowned while she grabbed a wrag and some polish to clean the counter off. The Savage gang? Here? No way in hell that was true. The group of outlaws had made a name for themselves by going around and collecting orphans that had the same pent up anger and rage they had. Only once had they road through Cholla Springs just outside Armadillo justa' whooping and a holloring about nonsense...And that was the last time the town saw of them. 

Rose gripped the wrag tighter as horror tales well told by locals who had witiness the gang up close and personal. "The men are true Savages like their name calls em'! They will turn on the strongest and pick the meat of the bones of the weaker ones. 'Memeber ole dolly mattison that dated Billy stronsom? She musta' thought she could turn that outlaw into a good man and ended up raped to death and dragged from Blackwater to Dixion Crossing." That story made Rose shiver as several men agreed to hearing the same thing as it was told. Why would men be so cruel to each other?

"The Walton Gang won't even go near Fort Mercer since that was the last place they were seen. The routes to Mexico are no longer traveled in fear of that gang. All they do is prey on poor women and helpless families." Bishop said now holding a wine case firmly in his hands. 'Yeahs and agreeds' were shared along with some shakes of heads and disbelieving scoffs. Rose decided not to say anything since this was the first she heard of how bad that gang was. Yes, they were known to kill families that had more than they did, rape unlucking widows or single women they came across, but what Outlaw hadn't did some wrong in their life? It was a code of honor those men lived by. Outlaws to the end. Nothing could change them..Not even death.

The chatter ceased about the Savage gang and returned to normal conversation after a while, leaving Rose to continue serving  up drinks and stew for the hungry cowboys and folks. It was such a lovely Wensday to spend cooped up in a bar but the little money she was paid to keep the law off her behind was worth giving up the entire sun. Rose wasn't sure if Bishop had gone to the General store for more supplies or beded with one of those Saloon whores. Either way, she managed to keep the customers happy and satisfied with the proformance of speed and fine drink slinging she did. Her red braid was becoming undone and a few long curls sprang from the front of her hair by the afternoon just before she cleared out the Saloon for now. Shouts from poker players could be heard through the wall along with Herbert Moon, the general store owner cussing up a storm. The old man was a racist, something Rosalie hated more than liars. Bishop was a jewish man and Herbert Moon wasn't about to sell him the finest vegetables if a bull rammed two horns up his ass. The tired old man dragged the cart up the stairs listening to Herbert insult him, huffing as his hand eased the door open and proceeded to keep struggling.

"And I hope you have a heart attack you demon seeded spawn! God would have helped you up these stairs if you worship him instead!" Herbert sneered and before he could send a dusty boot to Bishop's bent over behind, Rose grabbed the cart and dragged it on inside pushing it to the side of the bar. Herbert narrowed his pop bottle sized eyes on the girl and man, as she helped him stand straight. "...Jew lover! A ll of you are gonna burn in hell! Remember Herbert moon spoke of that day coming!!" He screeched and dragged himself back across the dirt road nearly getting trampled by a horse and rider in the process.

Rose firmly placed her hands on her hips and clicked her tongue at the indecent man. It was always a wonder why they kept him around the town when the man was a pain in the ass. Bishop coughed weakly shooting the hateful man's retreating back a dark glare then set his eyes on Rose's green ones.

"He's the only man willing to work here. I think the Sheriff would have been disposed of him by now." Bishop said seeming to read her mind. Rose snorted and firmly pursed her lips at him using the word "Man". If he was a man then she was a whore.

"I don't think he deserves the title "man". He's a damn menace to the entire town with his racist comments to the good folk around here." She hummed out reeling in a laugh from the tired old Bartender. Somehow Rose could make his day better just by the stuff she could say. Over the loud talking Bishop heard a aggitated growl slip past her lips.

"Perhaps you should take a break until sundown? I'll still pay you as if you were slingin' drinks." He vowed. It was something she needed right now before the drunk bastards continue to confuse her with a Saloon whore any further. When Bishop first hired her, she was 17, dirge and filled with an unknown sorrow he had never in his life witnessed from a strapping young femme. Over the years she transformed into a spunky, independent and perky young lady. The body of a well worked out dancer and the heart of an Outlaw. She could skin elk, break horses, and even shoot a Revolver like a certified Gunslinger. Bishop asked who taught her and she always said "Marston." Figures John would teach a woman how to shoot for herself. Brave bastard he was! But his death was something Bishop hid from Rose. She must have loved him alot as all the towns folk had.

"...Did you even hear me?" Rose hummed out firmly. Three more men had advanced behind her, money waving behind her head. Were they...Bidding on her? Shaking his balding head clear, his hand came out to rest on her shoulder. Actually telling her he wasn't listening was better than shaking his head yes but he couldn't bring himself to tell her he hadn't been. Foolishly his head nodded. "Good," She squeaked out and before anyone knew what the Bartender agreed to, Rose was balling her fist up and left hooking the closes man behind her. A comical grunt and crashing backwards onto a table was heard. 

Silence.

"At least I won't get fired for it." She concluded untieing her apron, placing it over the counter and taking her leave. So that was what he agreed to eh? Perhaps he should have told her that punching Outlaws in the face wasn't a good idea.

Rose sighed contently looking around the streets. To her right was the Train station and to her left was various stores and hotels. The place wasn't like Blackwater was rumored to be, Brick buildings and paved roads with fancy automobiles. No siree, just plain plank wood and four paned windows which you prayed wasn't broken. But it was home to Rose...Ever since she found out her family had moved further into Blackwater she could never step foot in that place again. Now knowing that Jack was dead. His entire family was dead by those Government lab rats. It held to much..So much. That gazeebo that her and Jack sat at after school to hear a classic story or watching the sunset on the dock. It just held to much.

"Rose Darling! Is it true?"  Laura Gibbs yelled from across the street where the bank was. Her long cranberry color hair was wrapped in a messy bun, her elegant red dress glued to her skin. While almost everything she wore was melted to her body, she was the Town snitch. It also explained why she was never married or even asked to go on dates. All men feared her and Outlaws had a target on her head. Poor woman couldn't even step foot in Thieves landing. Rosy cheeks and a cute button nose that made it seem like she was pouting when she wasn't, voice so soft and timid could melt anyone's heart. She blinked her big baby brown eyes at a stranger that passed by, hiked up her skirt and scurried across the street to meet Rose. 

"Is what true?" Rose found herself finally asking after getting a stern glare thrown to her. Laura carelessly pointed to the Saloon then back to her rocking on her heels as she did so. Both women seemed to take in their surroundings for quite some time, Rose hesitantly wondering what she was asking.

"You punching an Outlaw in the face? It's not proper or lady like!" Laura scolded her friend. Rosalie was someone she thought of as a sister. Close family but god the woman sometimes didn't act like one!

"But it's alright to turn them in? The guy thought I was a whore and--"

"You do work in a saloon." Laura interjected arching a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at the Red head girl. Sometimes it was a rather pain to talk to Laura, her constant nagging and such. If you weren't walking around in dresses with your breast uncomfortably pushed up and heels to cause callouses on your feet then you weren't lady like. Rose tried not to get offended by her comparing her hard labored job with being a slut but her face contorted into her famous petulant pout.

"/Which/ means nothing about the enviroment I am forced to work in." Said Rose defensively making Laura snicker at how she became so upset.

"Oh why so huffy Rosalie? I'm just teasin' ya! Now tell me..You gonna walk with me back over to the bank or stand here gettin' eaten alive by bugs and baked by the sun?" Was the sentence that was cramped together and blurted out without any air intake at all. From the long line that was hanging out the doorway of the bank, there was no need rushing just to stand in more sun. But Laura didn't see it that way, as her arm was slid in the crook of Rose's and the woman was being tugged down the stairs into the crowded street. 

The bunny hopping Laura and graceful walking Rosalie earned looks from some folks that couldn't help but to notice two beautiful fine ladies out on what looked like an afternoon stroll. It was..Far from that. The two began talking about the law, fine dresses and the single men around Armadillo. Foolish as it was, while Laura wanted a City slicker, Rose wanted a farmer with the heart of an Outlaw. The dull living was not for her since she was still young.

But her life was about to change.


	3. Chapter two

No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man

To be the sad man

Behind blue eyes

And no one knows

What it's like to be hated

To be fated to telling only lies

But my dreams they aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free

-Behind Blue eyes, Limp Bizkit

Thieves' Landing was a place where the sun never shined and the good never roamed. The clouds and constant storms told anyone that this place was a danger to anyone who couldn't handle Outlaws roaming or a place that looked just like a Pirates home. Swamps, Marshes and bayous surrounded the hotel that sat in the middle of the of the busy rundown town. It had a perfect view of the stables and also the old Jolly Jack's tobacco building.

Her name was Weasel and right now her fingers skimmed over names in her log book. People here barely paid their rent while staying at the hotel, one in particular though was an acceptation since his life was a rocky one. It had been three years since he had been crashing on the sofa and not one of the rooms upstairs, Weasel smiled. Her wrinkled up face pushed up at the corners under her glasses. The young man was sprawled out on the sofa now, book laid open on his chest. His hat was covering most of his face and his red bandanna carelessly tied around his neck. Poor child. Had been helping her around the place to earn some cash besides bounty hunting and being an Outlaw to anyone outside of Thieves' landing. Boy had the perfect manners and always kept his shoulder length hair in mint condition. So much like his father...

"Almost closing time, Mr. Marston." Weasel chided loud enough to send the man tumbling to the floor half snoring. Once his face met the carpet, she could only wait for the foul stench to fill his senses.

"Dear god! What the hell?" Came his sputtering and kicking to get up to his feet. As he stood, the book he was reading was snatched up and flung onto the couch without any care. Yep he was wide awake for now. Jack Marston met the old woman's' laugh with a cold glare that he so famously inherited from his father. Weasel stopped with a few more chortles then pointed to the log book.

"Room 23 needs to be cleaned out for the next person. Dallas left an hour ago." She said holding out a key for him to take. Jack ambled over to her and slipped the key from her fingers, tightly clutching it in his hand. Since when did that man leave quietly? Each week was the same bickering and yelling from him each time.

"..And When did he so calmly leave?" Jack said looking for a dog to kick just from the topic about this man. Lord knows he was techy as a teased snake when it was time to leave, but when Jack showed up to give her help, somehow he was a tad bit calmer.

"Well it's a bit of a tear squeezer honestly, Mr. Marston. You ain't hear him 'cuss he was dead." Said the pruned old woman. Her back was then turned to organize the folders on her desk but even now she heard the smugness in his tone. A few moments of silence before he could chirp out anything.

"Well at least the bastard is no longer above snakes. He was an addle-headed fool who deserved to die." Jack retorted fixing the hat his father wore upon his head again. "Don't see how it's such a "Sad story" anyway." He added while making his way for the stairs.

"Allers never let me finish my story Marston. Dallas, like everyone here was among the willows. But that Savage gang road through Blackwater again and caught him trying to annex the horse of the Gang's leader. He didn't actually get far but he figured stopping here would make him untouched. Last I saw was a whore making her way up to his room, loud screams, and the man was pronounced dead this mornin'. That hooker worked for the Government or either that Savage gang." Explained Weasel to an all down but nine Jack. His eyes soon narrowed after she was done once he kinda figured it out.

"I'll say the Government did it. A gang would have rode out here on their own to put an end to him, not let him have fun then be killed." Jack paused as his brows furrowed even more from under the rim of his hat. "Where was I when this happened?" He questioned.

"You were out doing whatever..I suppose." She said fumbling with a strand of grey hair earning a glance of curiosity from the Young gunslinger. Finally his hands went up in the air as he groaned in irritation.

"Ugh I'm barkin' at a knot standing around here. I don't care if a bangtail trampled him in his sleep. Good. Riddance." Jack said and stomped up the stairs without a second more of talking. Talking about a person he could careless about was not going to get that room cleaned out for the next person and from the darkening of the clouds, a storm was rolling in and night was pursuing after it.

The top of the stairs were climbed and turning the corner Jack stopped at the room he was destined to be at 10 minutes ago. Before the key could be turned, a sharp whiff of death and rotten copper filled his nose. The 19 year old slunk back, stomach curning its' disapproval as well. Weasel said he died in here not was killed! The spectacle however, was far more worse when the door was teased open. The white bed was now red with crimson plasma, it dripped off the walls, coated the pillows and had danced even onto the floor. Broken pictures and glass also outlined the ruined room that was beyond darning.

It was a crime scene. A brutal death that Jack still thought he deserved. The man raped women and killed little kids! What good did he ever do in life? Oh yeah save Weasel from a bandit. Big fucking whoop. Jack was about to slam the door and tell Weasel he wasn't about to step foot in that hell hole when the withered old woman was standing behind him, a creepy sinister grin upon her features and a mop in one hand, bucket in the other. The pair was silent as the stand off began, Jack not even breathing, Weasel still grinning all evil like.

"You didn't tell me the room was death, Weasel."

"You didn't let me finish, Mr.. Marston."

More prolonged silence then it was broke once Jack snatched the cleaning items from her frail hands. "Yeah, pop goes the Weasel." Murmured Jack as he retreated back into the room, airing his lungs the entire time.

                                                                             ****

  Rain washed down the dirty road and wind rustled crumpled leaves. No longer was dirt just dirt, but now a dangerous slick mud that caused the horses to rear up with their riders and send them tumbling to the ground below. The Dixie Rose would always be a shabby hotel and threats of flooding had always been a pain for the customers. Weasel began her normal hissing outside on the porch as more wind blew rain into eyes, blinding them from others with wagons and carts.

"Git them horses into the stables now!" Weasel barked out as she continued to watch the men struggle to calm the horses in the corral. Lightning split the sky, crashing ferociously on the ground right in the center of the male brown stallion. His eyes widen just to show the white in them and a shrill of a neigh left his vocals. One rancher fought with the beast as his slippery hands reached for the bridal around his head. But he was not calming for anyone now! The man was brutally lifted off the ground and thrown to the side colliding with the wood. A pained grunt and he laid still.

"Put the beast out of his misery!" Someone yelled after jumping clear of the horse biting and kicking at anyone in his path. Another strong gust of wind blew through the trees snapping branches like twigs and the rain came down in sheets. Weasel turned her head around to glance at the golden pearl Kentucky saddler that belonged to Jack, his head being thrown up in down as he cantered in his spot. She whirled around busting down the doors to greet a worn out Jack. His beige jacket was gone just showing his white blood stained button up shirt and his dark blue jeans dirty and grimed up. That red bandanna was the only thing fixed tight around him...And That hat. Her mouth opened to speak but Jack held up his hand then pushed past her heading outside.

His boots made contact with the mud and already he could tell this was no normal storm. It was a hurricane! He sprinted over to the corral where the brown horse was still snapping his jaws and snorting at anyone who came near. He barely had time to jump over the fence and land wobbly on his feet.

"Get out the way dammit!" Jack snarled whirling his lasso in the air as he eyed the horse down completely. Once the rope settled around the beasts' neck, Jack was roughly jerked forward with a yelp and sent stomach first with the wood. Air left lungs and then his feet left ground. Solid impact with his back and the ground was heard. Weasel was heard yelling his name and then the horse was standing over top of him, hooves raised.

Marston rolled to his left as the horse pounded his hooves down where his head had just been. He firmly gripped the rope in his slick bare hands growling on his own from pain and lack of breath. Slowly his feet began to move backwards as the stubborn horse charged forward, a crazed look in his eyes. Just as Jack predicted the animal ran right into the stables kicking his back hoof into Jacks' ribs. The boy doubled over in pain and fell to his knees.

Major heard his owner cry out in pain and tore free from his hitching post. He galloped past the men looking over at Jack and jumped over the fence, hooves slipping and his back end smashing down into the mud. His main concern was Jack as he stopped near the boy with his muzzle aimed downward. Eagerly, Jack clutched hold of the Pearl's face and hauled himself up wheezing. This was a bond Marston had with his father's horse and nothing could break it. Often he wondered if his father was inside that horse.

Jack managed  to shove Major inside and close the door behind him. Weasel was beyond worried as she squinted through the heavy down pour to spot him anywhere. She overheard the men saying that horse was insane then heard him cry out. Was he alive out there? Was he injured? Was he--

"All taken care of Weasel." Came a light southern drawl accent. He swayed from side to side holding his ribs in pain drenched in the clothes he wore. His face was bruised and hair caked with mud and blood. What the hell happened out there? Before the elder could control herself, she was wrapping her arms around the younger nearly weeping with happiness. No matter what he did when he wasn't around her, he would always be her best friend she ever had. Tonight he had given her a good scare.

Marston wrapped one arm around her and gently pushed her inside to close the door safely behind them. Already he could tell his body was going to be stiff and be painful as hell to cope with. Damn horse had nearly killed him out there if major hadn't came when he did to help him up. His weak legs ushered him towards the sofa where he normally slept each night until Weasel caught him firmly by the arm and shook her head.

"You can sleep in my bed for the night. I'll stay in the room Dallas was in. You need to get cleaned up in the shower and let me get to wrappin' them ribs." She commanded. This would be her hardest task when it came down to helping an injured Marston. The boy always said he could handle it. He was a man! It didn't hurt. Honestly no one could help Marston with any problem he had. One of the Walton gangs even said he was gonna go through with killing a whole gang by himself near hanging rock. Either way, Jack was like his father in every way. No this, got that.

But maybe one day he would find the girl he dreams about every night. All Weasel knew was her name was Rose simply because Jack groaned it and threatened to kill someone to get her back. That's even if the girl was still alive after that Zombie outbreak that John settled.

His arm was jerked free from her grasp which even that cause terrible smarting. Again that look flashed across his features, gritting his teeth like he could bite the sites off a six-gun. Weasel froze herself, eyes darting from side to side as she waited for the outlaw to surrender to her offer. Jack swayed from left to right with dark brown strands dripping drops of rain water onto his lashes. Why was he trying to hold his throbbing head high when a bath and sleep sounded so wonderful right now? Because he never needed help. He was his own blacksmith, doctor and cook when he needed to be, not mooching off women and others to get by.

But the longer he stood her trying to stare down the old woman, the more his body was not going to keep putting up with his bullshit. Well if he didn't sit down or get his body from trying to force him down Weasel would drag him upstairs kicking and screaming.

"Fine, Whatever. Jus' give me a moment to..Bathe." Jack seemed to pause for a moment waiting for Weasel to gloat her attainment, but she just nodded like a person in shock. Had his bruised and maltreated face really scared her that bad? The horse had only kicked him in the stomach, ribs, and flung him to the ground without any clemency whatsoever.

"And I'll be alright too." Jack added clenching his teeth together to block out the pain his ribs were ping ponging at him. Weasel gave a silent nod of her head sending those long gray flowing from under the huge sunhat she wore from getting wet in the rain. A final glance at her, Jack tipped his hat with one agonizing limb then wrapped the other around his ribcage before turning to head back upstairs.

Each step seemed as if he was stepping over a mountain from the pain his thighs and calf muscles bared him with. Agreeing to take her room was worse than sleeping on the sofa for crying outloud! At least he didn't have to climb anything or fall flat on his face when the power went out for a brief moment. Still he hauled himself up and clawed to the top of the stairs not letting an ounce of his pain get to him.

                                                           *******

The shift of the storm had gone from bad to tragic in less than an hour. Trees had fallen over on the most traveled paths blocking any dumb person that dared travel at this time, farm animals were sent into a frenzy at the rise of water at the gates. Weasel had opened the door for the sixth time for families that needed somewhere to lay their weary heads. She was becoming drained and also running low on room for more that piled up on her doorstep. Jack had already taken his bath, bandaged and surely sleep now since the time was after midnight.

Did she ever have a choice when it came to her job? The time when she had more stamina and could dash around and about was over, replaced with an old cart horse speed. She peeked over the rim of her turtle framed glasses at a old man around his mid 40's. His hair was dripping wet and icy blue hardened once they met her green ones.

"I need a room lady." Was all he grumbled out looking around the wragged lobby. God this place was worse than Armadillo! The only thing that wasn't a green marsh color was the red curtains hanging up. And who was this old walking prune who was gawking at him from behind those ungodly glasses? All these thoughts flowed through the bandits mind even as she waddled over to the wooden desk to check her log in book.

"Name sir?" She asked warily. Now she saw how his scrawny face was trying to decode her own! When had this man had meal and judging by his smell, a bath? His stance tensed as he closed his eyes for a moment to think of a name.

"Dalton...Brown." He said and she nodded. So she fell for it..For now at least. God dammit, Edward was gonna kill him for getting separated from the Savage gang when the posse was hot on their asses as it was! He couldn't help that the gang was heading to blackwater at the time the storm hit forcing him to hit Thieves landing while they probably took over MacFarlane's ranch! Dalton was so consumed in his own thoughts that he didn't notice the key this woman held out to him. That was when he noticed that this prune wasn't a prune at all. She was actually a beautiful old woman filled with visible stress and lack of sleep! Her gray hair was in a messy bun and those forest green eyes damn near made him swoon.

"T-Thank you...Didn't Catch your name miss." Dalton stammered over his sentence for the first time ever. She offered a small smile in his direction, her hip cocked out to the side in such a confident stance.

"They call me Weasel." A silence grew between the pair before Dalton laughed under his breath. Weasel? This woman was called Weasel?! Clearly she should have been called Vixen!

"You sneaky or sumthin'? I ain't never heard of a woman being called Weasel." He hummed out. It was now her turn to half chuckle as she turned. The woman was no fool that's for sure.

"And I ain't never heard of a fake name that sounded worse than a female dog giving birth. Now get up to that room before someone comes along, knocks you in the head and steal it from you." Weasel advised grabbing a key from her own pocket and proceeding to head to the next available room for her to sleep in. Dalton narrowed his eyes at her statement but shook his head afterwards amused. She was a clever old timer.

All night Jack groaned in his sleep as his body tried to fight off the slight fever he was coming down with. A cold sweat had started to break out on his forehead and his bed was feeling as if it was floating down the river at some points. Echoes of the gunshots that took his father down, his mother's dying shallow breaths, Rose's fingers brushing over his cheek when he was pulled away from her so soon. That sight of the puddle of blood that remained in front of the barn door for days, weeks.. The house was now vacant because he could no longer stand to be in it alone. He had tried to go back once..But his eyes kept locking on the right side of the porch where Uncle died then trailed up the hill were that single tree marked his families grave...

At the same time a gunshot went off, Marston had lurched himself up with a loud scream of his own. He then threw himself back against the headboard shivering and wiping the stray tears from his glassy eyes. A dream that would always haunt him as long as he was alone. Bounty Hunter, Outlaw...A Bad man....No Family, no home..He had a house but not a home. A sad man.

His hand flew to his ribs as he gasped out for air. Why did he sit up so fast again? Again the sound of a gun shot fired off and the galloping if approaching hooves filled the silent room that Jack was currently in. The hell was going on? He rolled out of bed with only the sheet wrapped around his waist to keep himself from being exposed and limped over to the window, peering through the heavy rain. That person was now insight on a grey horse screaming about a gang.

"...avage Gang at MacFarlane's ranch!" Came the loud man's voice. "Help me please!" He added. Jack waited for him to say something else and when he didn't, the young Marston was quickly hobbling over to the dresser where his clean clothes were, jerking out a pair of clean jeans, a white button up, boots, bandanna, and beige jacket. He recognized that ranch. It was the same one his father took him to when he first came back. Those were some good folk!

He looked himself over in the mirror to assure himself then snatched up his weapon belt and sling...And His pa's hat. By the time he made it downstairs, his mind was shutting down from fever he was coming down with. He grunted while shaking his head harshly, gripping the door knob as tight as he could. Jerking it open he marched outside on the porch to be greeted by the chilly windy rain and the man.

The man threw his hands up in the air with relief and rode his horse over to the Marston. Jack however, wasn't in the mood to talk. He had to force his feet to move through the mud and water that lapped at his shins, constantly wipe the rain from his eyes, and not be blown over by the wind. First thing he was able to grab was the fence and haul himself over the ledge. Already Major had swung his sturdy neck around to the sound of his owner approaching him so suddenly. He was alert to the gunshots, eyes now peeled on the man that had fired and Jack. Once he made contact with the beast, Major nickered sensing something was terribly wrong with the Marston. Several times Jack had become sick when they both went into tall trees and it was on him to get him home safely. But now he was coming out of the place to keep him safe and wrestling with the major storm that was brewing outside the stables. Jack was to weak to even throw himself up into the saddle. His lungs burned with each breath he took. Go back to bed Jack. His mind was compelling but not strong enough to get him to comply. The strange man that had been sitting atop his gray mare watched in total silence. Was this the man that was going to save the ranch from vicious men like the Savage Gang? Finally the young man was seated ontop of his stallion, hacked a deep mucus filled cough, and set those nefarious judgments on that man.

"....Either You just saw a damn ghost or your horse froze in place." Jack tiffed out vociferously. The scrawny man fumbled with the lantern he held in his hand with a subdued "oh". Lightning struck the ground again the thunder not so far behind, sending the gray rearing up onto her back legs neighing with striking hooves. Major was quick to mimic the move but it was to keep Jack from accepting the brunt of the blow. Her hoof slashed at his chest and soon as she was firmly back on the ground she pressed her head into the crook of Major's as if he was some comfort or her savior.

"You two done yet? That gang done already raped the women and killed the men by the time you greenhorns are finished." Someone said riding as proudly as they could upon a Hunnigan half bred. The mare's coat was smeared with mud as she pranced in place gawking at Jack and the stranger. Jack felt his jaw bone flex at the insult. But the man was right. Bunnie or whatever her name was would be raped and strung up naked before he was able to save her. "I can see that rising anger Marston. No need for it. I suggest we get going before the storm hits again." Even in the murky light, Jack could see his hand reach for the gate to swing it open. At once, Major was blazing out the gate with no mercy. Jack had to keep from sliding off the side and tighten his thighs painfully against his flank. Who the hell told the horse to go?! And he thought his pa's war horse was bad news! Jack didn't look back over his shoulder to see if the men were behind him. They crossed the bridge and rounded out the bad man's land to hit the woods. The stranger rounded soon after along with the secret man that had opened the gate. His Hunnigan move swiftly as the gray and up along side Major with long full strides. Can't say she was faster than he was but they both were neck and neck at the moment. Hoof strides were in unison but rider was not as in sync. Jack's body was limp and dripping with excessive cold sweat while the secret stranger sat upward, his head held high and body relaxed.

"You don't seem so well, son.  Weather got you's sick?" He asked as if it wasn't obvious. Dalton Brown had seen a sick man fight, but never ride a horse in what go him sick in the first place. Hell, he wasn't even sure if the man was  a Marston but then again, he was out here with a pent up confidence and his muscular frame sent into overdrive. Jack managed to glare over at the man all the while slouched over the beast neck. As Dalton studied him, Jack seemed to perk up from death in a saddle. His trembling gloved hands that gripped the reins clenched firmer around the leather straps.

"No shit stranger. I would have been nursed to health by Weasel if that fool," He paused whipping his head around to the young man riding the gray was at. Fear struck his eyes as the railroad crossing came into view along with the ranching nightmare. Jack turned around and continued. "..Hadn't Come blazing in whoopin' and a hollering'." Did anyone have any idea how they were going to save donnie and her friends? Jack was a good shooter but not as fast as his father was. John had been able to shoot men off horses while War was smart enough to take lead. Him and his mare was like a bonded pair. Whenever gunfire struck, she would rear up and take the hit instead of John. It amazed Jack how well they had worked together...And Died together. Shaking his thoughts from his head, he spurred Major forward leaving Dalton and the other man behind.

Was this kid crazy? Had he no brains at all?! Edward would surely shoot the idiot down before his horse could make it over the bridge. Edward had to be waiting for help to arrive since this man had left to find someone.

                                                                      *****

There was nothing here to feed a starving bird! The general store barely had money to feed him and his hungry gang, much less his horse! Each person on MacFarlane's ranch was rounded up into the barn so not a soul would take notice of what was happening. But that scrawny little bastard had sneaked out the window, Stole Fletcher's horse and hightailed it out before anyone took notice. Well, the blonde bitch did. Bonnie or something like that. Getting her to leave her house was like pulling a birth giving fox out its burrow. She finally simmered on down once the butt end of  a Volcanic Pistol met her skull. Edward Savage had been seated on a bail of hay watching any movements from her when Dukes came flooding back into the barn stumbling over pails of water. The man was an absolute mess! His dirty blond curls was sticking to his beet red face, snagged teeth exposed in a  traumatizing grimace. What the hell scared him so dang bad now? Kid always had the jitters which caused him to cling to Marvin....That Son of a bitch was still missing out in the storm too. One minute he was beside him, next he was gone just as the lightning struck. Even though Edward would never say these words outloud, he loved Marvin like a retard puppy.

"Someone's comin'! And they's not wasting time Savage!" Sputtered retardation of a person. Edward snatched up his buffalo rifle and sturdy his Stetson hat over his thick black hair. Whoever was coming to help these dear folks was going to be dead first or dragged into the barn as well.

"Git back to yer post Fletch! I'ma coming!" Edward shooed with his foot once he was advancing on him. Outside the rain had picked up in layers of sheets. He slipped and damn near fell into Retard who's sloppy running would not have helped him anyhow. As his blue eyes cut open the land, Three horses was thundering towards the ranch, one pearl colored one out running the other two. Edward sneered at Fletcher knocking boots in fear and aimed his rifle at the rider. Just a little closer....His Trigger finger tensed just as a familiar whistle caught his ear. Marvin? There lord and behold was that cocky son of a bitch throwing his hands up in the air. So the man had gone and got help which turned out to be his right hand man? Praise the damn devil for that! But his victory was cut short  when the other rider was came stampeding over the bridge. Once he got near the general store, his stallion slammed into Fletcher sending his body flying and leaving his yelp where he once stood. Dalton flew forward soon after, trying to calm the stallion down. His shushing did calm the beast but not the rider. Jack gripped his Automatic and fluidly aimed at Edward. His eyes weren't covered by the hat anymore. His body had swollen like an ox showing how well toned he was under his jacket, jaw bone flexed before it stilled as well matching his stone like expression. Marston met the blue eyes of Edward, the man that was the leader of said gang.

"Well I'll be fucked!" Edward yipped out in a surprised tone. "If it isn't a dang Marston in the flesh! lemme guess, John Jr? I remembers you when your father was in Dutch's gang as well!" His gaze was now directed at Dalton. "And you! Disappear and come back with a gunslinger's son! Best damn thing you have done!" Dalton couldn't tell if it was sarcasm or had he gone plum tuckered mad. Instead he gave a sheepish grin and said nothing. Best let him think it was his plan all along.

"This isn't your ranch. Now let those folks go or else." Jack alerted with a shaking gun hand. Damn he wished these chills would stop making his nervous system flutter around. His father would be pissed seeing his gun hand shaking...Mad That he was holding a gun! Edward just looked up into those stark crazed eyes taking in the illness he had come down with.

"Say me, you and Marvin go down to Armadillo, stock up on that whiskey then head on back to fort mercer?" Edward suggested, shifty eyes spotting the snitch who had rode off in search of help. Jack coughed again setting a wildfire in his lungs. He was dying slowly, maybe faster in this weather. Even Major sensed it and cantered to the side to jar his rider awake.

"I ain't going with you." Finally came Jack's low southern drawl accent. His eyes slid shut again failing his attempt to save these people.Now he was risking his own life for no reason at all. Either way death wasn't scary anymore. He had a father, mother, dog, and a sister he never met waiting for him on the other side. Jack Marston was ready to die the day he had to bury his mother. The day he lost everything. The day his pistol failed to go off when he had it pressed to his temple. He remembered Major nudging his arm roughly, glaring at his father's hat. He stood on the hill that rainy day staring at the graves of his family. So cold and six feet under. The twig snapped mentally when he found out Rose was no longer in Blackwater. He rode long and hard searching for the one man who stripped his life bare of what he owned, loved, cherished. John didn't break his damn problem..He was with him in his heart and Jack felt him then and felt him now. What he didn't understand was the gunshot ringing in his ears and the thud of someone hitting the ground. Jack opened his eyes and saw the lifeless body of Strange man in a heap.

"Either you ride with us, or Blondie here gets one next." Edward was slinging around Bonnie to face him. How long was his eyes closed? This fever was getting the best of his ass now. He blinked a few more times before lowering his gun. Bonnie frowned pleading with her eyes for him to kill that son of a bitch. He couldn't face her anymore, or anyone else. His body snarled its response by causing him to blackout again. Head became to heavy to hold up and he fell forward barely even aware of the sprawled out body  beside him. That man was shot like his father...Oh What his father would say about this cowardice situation! Coming all this way to end up captured. He felt his body moving with Major's movements yet his fever drew him deeper into sleep like bees to honey. Next thing he remembered was waking up right outside Armadillo's Saloon, bodies decorating the stairs.


End file.
